Things Left Unsaid
by iTrippedandfellforyou
Summary: AU. And then Tino laughed. Because there he'd been, moaning and complaining that no one ever listened to him, while Berwald was right there. Listening to him. SwedenxFinland.


**Title: Things Left Unsaid**

**Author/Artist: blackwingsblueeyes**

**Words: 3, 840**

**Character(s)/Pairing(s): Tino (Finland)/Berwald (Sweden). Ivan (Russia). Denmark. Norway. Peter (Sealand). **

**Characters Mentioned: **_**Heracles (Greece). Kiku (Japan). Gilbert (Prussia). Elizaveta (Hungary). Roderich (Austria). Feliciano (N. Italy). Ludwig (Germany). Toris (Lithuania). Natalia (Belarus). Eduard (Estonia). Raivis (Latvia).**_

**Rating: T**

**Warnings: Yaoi. High School AU. Tiny bit of angst, not really.**

**Summary: Ivan has his friends. Norway has Denmark. Arthur has Alfred. Kiku has Heracles. Peter has Raivis. What about Tino? Who do I have? And don't say Hanatamago. **

**A/N: This has nothing to do with any historical event. **

**Enjoy!**

**Things Left Unsaid**

The smile was there, plastered on his face, as it so often was. His smiles were not usually forced; Tino was by nature a very cheerful person. Laughter and smiles were his constant companions.

But this class… Tino_ passionately disliked _this class. No, that's not quite right exactly. Tino had nothing against history class. At times, it even fascinated him. No, it wasn't the class itself that Tino could hardly stand.

"Tino!" was the only warning that said boy received before he was hoisted out of his seat and caught in a breathless and bone-crunching hug.

He smile became a little more genuine. The other's enthusiasm never failed to surprise him. The Finn let himself be lost in the warmth and the feeling that came with being this close to another person. And then Tino remembered who it was.

"Hello, Ivan," Tino greeted, patting the Russian awkwardly. He let out a small sigh of relief as the other released him from the hug.

Tino sank back into his seat while Ivan took the desk next to him. To any outsider looking in, the two made an almost comical pair. Their body structures (_a huge Russian monster of a man, and a petite, almost feminine Finnish boy) _and the way in which they held themselves were so completely different that one would guess they were incompatible. Tino had thought so too.

Sometimes he still did.

But on the first day of classes, the Russian boy had plopped down next to him muttering some nonsense about a lucky water faucet and pointless school rules. Then he had turned towards Tino, smiling an alarmingly childish smile that didn't quite reach his amethyst eyes.

Something about the Russian's eyes, those haunted orbs that held so much bitter loneliness and hurt, caused Tino to ignore his screaming instincts and smile back.

Sometimes he wondered if he'd made the right decision.

That's not to say Ivan wasn't a good friend. He was. Ivan was so childishly loyal, never failing to find Tino at every school sponsored event or in the hallways between classes. But Ivan was possessive, too. Whenever he could, Ivan made sure to isolate Tino from the rest of the class or from Ivan's friends or whoever they happened to be with.

Ivan always had to be the center of Tino's attention.

"I missed you this morning. Were you running late again?" Ivan's voice interrupted Tino's train of thought. With a brief twinge of annoyance, Tino realized he'd been thinking about him. _Even my thoughts are centered around you._

Tino recalled that morning. "Yes, I was running late," the Finn stated simply.

Ivan seemingly didn't notice Tino's lack of enthusiasm or chose to ignore it. "This morning was so fun!" He went on like he hadn't even asked Tino a question. "Apparently, Denmark and Norway had an argument sometime yesterday, and all through breakfast they kept bickering over the smallest things. Some of their insults were pretty colorful, especially Norway's… You do know who I'm talking about, right? Norway and Denmark?" (1)

"Ye –" - _s._

"Okay! Quiet now, everyone! Class is starting!" the teacher called from the front of the room, effectively cutting off most conversations. There was still a soft babble as a few students got their last words in.

Tino looked to his left to find that Ivan was already facing forward, pen poised and ready to take notes when the teacher started lecturing.

_Do I know Denmark and Norway? Yes, Ivan, I do know them. We're actually pretty close friends, Denmark and I. We grew up together. _

_And maybe you'd know this stuff if you paid attention to half the stuff I try to tell you. _

**~.~**

Lunch was both Tino's most and least favorite time of the day. It was nice to sit and relax under the shade of the prodigious, old oak tree. His stomach appreciated the food, too.

Tino was always one of the first ones out for lunch. It always made him smile, somewhat wistfully, to see the little traditions the other students had set up.

Heracles Karpusi could always be found leaning against the wall across from the doors leading outside. He lazed there for so long everyday that one might think he spent all of lunch there. But a little while after the bell would ring, Kiku Honda would emerge from the building, stoic expression softening just a bit when he found Heracles there, waiting faithfully for him as always. The two would walk side-by-side around the corner, probably off to meet Feliciano and Ludwig somewhere.

Tino's smile would turn into a full sized grin whenever Roderich and Elizaveta would round the corner, Gilbert no-so-subtly wedged between them. The trio's antics never failed to entertain Tino.

_Maybe today wouldn't be so bad_, Tino decided as Gilbert waved his arms madly, almost whacking Elizaveta in the face, but managing to make Roderich's steely expression mellow just a little. Elizaveta laughed, the melodious giggle reaching Tino, and the Finn could just manage to see a soft dusting of pink across the Prussian's cheeks.

As lunch wore on, Tino couldn't help but feel a tad lonesome, sitting there by himself. It wasn't that Tino was shy, necessarily. Tino had plenty of friends. But the ones he felt closest to, like Denmark or Berwald, had different schedules and were in different lunch periods. Berwald had Norway and Iceland to talk to at his lunchtime _(not that he talked much anyway)_, and Denmark had always found it easy to make friends, so Tino was sure he was fine.

The food Tino was eating started tasting a little flat, but he finished eating it anyway, if only so he wouldn't be bored. For a split second, Tino entertained the thought of going to sit by Ivan. Ivan was always surrounded by plenty of friends, but Tino noticed, as he looked over there, that none of them looked particularly happy. Except for Ivan, of course. The Russian was speaking animatedly, as Toris listened politely and Natalia hung on every word.

But Tino wouldn't go over there. He knew he would be welcomed, Ivan would be ecstatic to see him, as always. But Tino knew, as overdramatic and clichéd as it sounds, that once he sat down with them, Ivan wouldn't let him leave without a confrontation. And a rejected Ivan Braginski is a fearsome thing to behold.

Tino grimaced, just barely, when Eduard looked his way and caught him staring. Raivis, Eduard's little freshman brother, looked over too, and quirked his lips up in a small, timid smile that almost made Tino's heart brake. It wasn't an invitation to come and sit with them. They had each other, and it wasn't that they didn't like Tino _(Eduard was in a few of Tino's classes and he was a nice enough guy)_. But they had already reached the same conclusion Tino had.

_They couldn't leave Ivan. He would never allow it. So Tino was lucky. Because it was better to sit alone than be unwillingly tied to Ivan Braginski, right?_

Tino kept telling himself that it was as he finished off the remains of his lunch and dumped the garbage in the trash bin. He kept his eyes trained to the floor as he headed off to his next class, not making eye contact with anyone.

As he stopped to get a drink of water from the closest water fountain, Tino couldn't help but notice that the water left a bitter taste in his mouth.

**~.~**

Norway didn't even look up as Tino sat down in the seat across from him. He was huddled over the desk, intense eyes concentrating on whatever he was sketching. Tino couldn't see from his angle, but he was sure it was amazing.

Norway's scribbling slowed for a moment as he addressed Tino. "The teacher said today's a free day. Paper's over there." He twitched his head in the direction of the stack.

"Thanks." Tino smiled as he went to retrieve some paper. He got a few extra sheets for Norway, too, just in case.

"That's really good," Tino commented, setting down the blank papers and sitting down.

Norway had stopped sketching, leaning up to examine his own work. He wore a look of careful contemplation, but Tino could see the pride in his eyes. And he had every reason to be proud too. Norway truly was an amazing artist, Tino wasn't lying.

"You really think so?" Norway raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, looking at the doodle from a different angle. Tino never understood this. Did Norway honestly doubt his own talents, or was he just fishing for compliments?

"Yeah, I do."

Either way, it was worth it to see the contented smile on Norway's face as he murmured a quiet "Thanks, Tino" and went back to his work.

And then they lapsed into silence. Tino didn't like silence. No scratch that, Tino didn't like _most_ silences. There's an endless array of silences though, some awkward, some loud, some stifling, some where you grab desperately for words that just aren't there.

But Tino loved Norway's silences. They were calm and peaceful and didn't make Tino feel the need to make pointless small talk. And although Norway preferred to quietly concentrate on his artwork, he never complained on the days that Tino was feeling extra chatty. He would listen to Tino, and occasionally make a few comments here and there. But Norway was never _really_ engrossed in what Tino had to say.

Sometimes Tino doubted that Norway even cared about him at all.

And then he felt bad because he was questioning Norway's friendship and _of course Norway cared. They were friends, after all. _But thinking _that_ made Tino feel arrogant, and like maybe he was just expecting too much of poor Norway. _But if Norway didn't even care about him at all... _And the cycle went on and on.

But Tino never voiced his doubts. He stayed quiet and let his fears remain unshared.

Art class ended, and Tino wondered where the time went as he looked guiltily down at his still blank sheet of paper. It seemed that he couldn't do anything productive today.

With a sigh, Norway collected his things together, Tino trailing along after him as they exited the classroom.

Tino wasn't surprised to find Denmark waiting outside the door for them. Or more accurately, waiting for _Norway_. It seemed that the two had made up from this morning, for they were acting no different than usual around each other. They exchanged hellos, and Denmark's trademark grin widened when he spotted Tino over Norway's shoulder.

"Fin!" He threw an arm around the Finnish boy's shoulders. Tino felt his cheeks reddening, just slightly. Denmark's constant displays of affection never failed to fluster Tino. "We've gotta get to class." The arm left Tino's shoulders. "But we'll find ya later, okay?" He ruffled Tino's hair genially, earning a half-hearted 'hey!' before grabbing Norway's hand and leading him off to their next class.

"Bye," Tino said, but they couldn't hear him, already making their way through the sea of people. So the Finn watched them go, hand-in-hand, before heading off to his next class alone.

**~.~**

The breeze played with light blonde hair as Tino gazed absently at the pair of young men running around on the football field. Hanatamago barked excitedly, apparently having the time of her life with her two young companions. The boys _(mainly Peter)_ had all but begged Tino to play with them, but the Finn had simply laughed and told them he would next time.

Surprisingly, Tino actually enjoyed looking after the two adolescents. He had been skeptical the first time, it was common knowledge in the neighborhood that Peter was quite a handful. But Tino had none-the-less accepted after Arthur had practically pleaded for the Finn to look after his younger brother _for just a cupla 'ours _while he went off somewhere with Alfred.

Peter hadn't been too keen on the idea either, but he had seemed to relax a bit after Tino had introduced him to Hanatamago. Little boys and little dogs, go figure.

And thus a beautiful friendship had been born.

It was times like now, with Peter and Raivis laughing and playing keep away from Hanatamago, and Hana jumping as high as her little legs would allow, trying to catch the ball, it was times like now that Tino treasured.

Tino knew this wouldn't last long; this lovely peace would be shattered as the sun set and he would have to bring the young ones home. But he would always keep these memories, these treasured times, and store them away for rainy days.

For now, Tino was content to sit there, swaying listlessly on the old swing-set, and prolong this moment as long as possible.

It was in this soothing, restful mindset that the Finnish boy just about had a heart attack when he felt warm hands on his back, pushing him higher on his swing.

With a still stuttering heart, Tino squeaked, "Hi, Berwald."

"Hallo."

They stayed like that, Tino ascending gracefully as Berwald pushed him higher and higher. The surprise of the sneak attack had worn off, but Tino's heart still gave small stammers every time toasty, forceful hands flattened out between the Finn's shoulder blades and pushed. Once he felt Tino was at a reasonably safe height (not _too_ high, but still well enough that Tino's stomach gave little lurches every time he climaxed), Berwald's pushes stopped and he sat down next to Tino.

Neither spoke until Tino's momentum slowed and he was left swinging idly, like he was before. He spared a glance to his left to find that Berwald was dressed in khaki pants and a dark navy polo shirt. He looked a bit odd, really, dressed as nicely as he was and sitting on an elementary school swing set. The Finn's mouth tilted up at the corners.

"So… How was work?" Tino recognized the logo on the polo shirt as the same one from the local supermarket.

"B'rin'"

Tino smiled at the Swede's candor. Oh Berwald and his way with words.

Tino followed Berwald's gaze and looked over to where Peter and Raivis were engaged in a fierce game of tag. Maybe Tino _would _go join them for the last bit of time before they went in… Tag with only two people was never very fun.

Tino was barely standing up, when he looked over at Berwald to see if he wanted to play too, but the look on the Swede's face made Tino fall right back onto the seat. Something in those piercing, icy eyes made the Finn's knees go weak.

Berwald tended to have that effect on him a lot.

"Wha's wr'ng?" Berwald's soft question caught Tino off guard. The Swede was still staring at him, and Tino couldn't help but blush a little at the attention.

"Huh?"

Berwald coughed lightly, flushing just the tiniest bit. "Ya lo'k sad."

As the words registered in his head, Tino was shocked and embarrassed to find tears starting to form in his eyes. And suddenly everything that he'd been holding back just became too much to handle.

Tino told Berwald everything. Hands gesturing somewhat wildly, he explained to the Swede how Ivan never really paid attention to what he had to say. And how lonely he felt at lunchtime when no one even tried to talk to him. And how it made him feel to see Heracles waiting patiently for Kiku everyday, always there, always a constant.

And he told Berwald his doubts and fears he held about Norway and how he felt guilty for even doubting him. And Tino told him how he couldn't even begin to describe the feeling he'd had when Denmark and Norway walked away from him together.

When he was finished, he finally looked over at Berwald. And the Swede, who had listened without interruption the entire time, said in his usual gruff voice, "'t'll be ok'y, Tino."

And then Tino laughed.

The Finn couldn't help himself. Because there he'd been, moaning and complaining that _no one_ ever listened to him, while Berwald was _right there._ Listening to him.

Deep, rumbling laughter sounded from his right, and if Berwald understood the irony of the situation or not, Tino didn't care.

All that mattered was that the Swede was here, with him now. And that maybe, just maybe, he'd been there all along, silently listening and caring and… loving him. Tino's eyes closed, reveling in this new feeling. It was nice to feel important, to feel like maybe you mattered.

With unshed tears in his eyes (happy or sad, he didn't know), Tino sucked in a breath as he opened his eyes to find Berwald down on both knees right in front of him, hands gripping the chains of the swing on either side of his head. There was something unreadable in the Swede's eyes, and Tino had to force himself not to shiver.

"Tino…"

They were eye to eye, and Tino found he couldn't look away, those two orbs of sky blue captivating him, mind, body, and soul.

Berwald leaned in close, his lips practically touching Tino's ear, but not quite. These words were for Tino and him only. "Tino, I l've ya."

Everything inside of Tino thawed then, he had to grip Berwald's shoulders just to keep himself from falling off the swing. For once, the Finn didn't have anything to say. There was _no way _he could say _anything_ right then, so he let himself do what he felt.

_I love you, too, Berwald._

Tino pulled Berwald as close to him as he could, melding their lips together almost desperately. He hadn't really known how much he'd wanted this, _wanted Berwald, _until he felt this feeling. He was flying, floating, _soaring_ far higher than this old swing could ever take him. He was unraveling, coming apart at the seams only to be put back together a hundred thousand times more alive.

And that was before Berwald deepened their kiss.

Tino wasn't sure how long they'd been kissing (Time passes kinda funny when you're in heaven.), but he knew it would've went on for much longer if it hadn't been for a certain wide-eyed young man staring at them from across the field. Two young men, actually, with identical jaw-dropped expressions.

"You know we can see you, right?!" Peter screeched at them, before sharing a look of childish disapproval with Raivis.

Tino was suddenly aware of exactly _where _Berwald's hands were and _what _the Swede was doing to his neck. The Finn flushed hotly before trying to untangle himself, but he found that Berwald's hand were stopping him. _Had he no shame?! _The Swede gave one last _lingering_ kiss to the corner of Tino's mouth before standing up and pulling the Finn along with him. He wrapped an arm around Tino's waist_ (And Tino secretly thanked him, for he really did need the support. His knees were still feeling a bit off)._

As the boys trotted over from across the field, Hanatamago running circles around their feet, Tino caught the tail end of their conversation. "And when they get married," Peter was saying, grinning mischievously at Tino, "there's no doubt in my mind that Tino will be the wife."

...

"_**PETER!!!!"**_

**Fin.**

**(1) I haven't seen or heard of Denmark and Norway's human names yet, so I'm just going to call them by their country names. **

**~.~**

**I hope you enjoyed it. This is my first fic in the Hetalia fandom and my first yaoi fanfic ever. So I'm just the teensiest bit nervous about posting it.**

**And I'm looking for a beta. Or even just a reader who wants to point out all my mistakes, that would be great C: I'm not a very good editor, so any help would be much appreciated.**

**Review, please?**


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